


Five star attraction

by Callistemon



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Fame, Hell’s Kitchen, Selfies, Tourists, Trip Advisor ratings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 06:03:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15989174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callistemon/pseuds/Callistemon
Summary: Daredevil’s fame is not without its consequences. While Foggy is thrilled about Daredevil’s increase in Trip Advisor ratings, Matt is less than happy about the sudden rise in fake calls for help.





	Five star attraction

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to put my flight delay time to good use and write a short Daredevil fic. This is my first ever kinkmeme fill.  
> This is the prompt:  
> “Daredevil dealing with tourists  
> A bunch of out of towners (American or otherwise) deliberately put themselves at risk to draw the attention of Daredevil, hoping to get his picture/autograph. (I'm sure they've stalked, er, convinced other NYC heroes to do this as well.) And its not just one group that does it either…” https://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/8773.html?thread=18653765#cmt18653765

Matt sped across the rooftops towards the scream, ducking and weaving as he leaped from one roof to another. 

“Help me! Please!”

He flipped onto a fire escape, throwing his grappling hook to the opposite building and swinging towards a trio of people. Just before he touched the ground, there was another scream and a yelled, “look! It’s Daredevil! He came!”

Matt furrowed his brow. They didn’t seem to be in any trouble. He turned his attention to the adjacent streets, listening for signs of a retreating threat. Nothing.

“Quick! Where’s your phone,” one of them shrieked.

“Daredevil! Daredevil, can we get a photo?”

Matt opened his mouth to ask what happened that caused them to call for help, but as he did, one of them leapt in front of him and struck a pose, two fingers raised in a devil salute. Matt turned his head away just as the sound of the phone’s camera started snapping away at an almost paparazzi pace.

“Daredevil, turn around. We want a selfie.”

Matt growled in annoyance and took off down the alleyway, unwilling to give them the photo opportunity of a vertical ascent up the building.

Five minutes later he was perched on the building above the trio who were still gushing over their photos and shortlisting the best for Instagram.

“OMG Stevie’s going to be so jealous. She’s never seen Daredevil even though she‘s lived here for two years. We see him in our first night in New York.”

“Man, this city’s awesome. Can you send me the one where he’s landing?”

“Yeah but let me post mine on Instagram first.”

Matt huffed in annoyance and slowly made his way back to his apartment even though it couldn’t have been past 8pm. This was the third time this had happened this week: fake calls for help, distracting him from real threats. He was getting better at assessing tone, but this one had seemed genuine. He felt stupid - he should have paused before jumping into the alleyway. But then if it were a genuine threat… with a groan, Matt threw his mask onto the couch and slumped down next to it, not ready to extract himself from the suit just yet.

Too annoyed to return to the streets and too wired to spend the night at home, Matt eventually pulled out his phone. “Foggy? What are you up to now?”

Half an hour later, Matt found himself perched on the edge of a stool at Josie’s.

“I want to ask why I get the pleasure of your company on a Saturday night, Matt,” Foggy said, sliding a beer across the table. “But first I think there’s a congratulations in order.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “What for?” He took a swig of beer.

“Daredevil just pipped the singing hotdog guy for third place on Trip Advisor. You, my friend, are now the third best attraction in Hell’s Kitchen, New York.”

Matt coughed so that the residual beer went up his nose.

“Four point three stars. You just got a five star rating from someone called ‘CornDude82’, who says-”

Matt gave Foggy a sharp “shhh”

“Sorry, I mean _Daredevil_ got five stars,” Foggy said in a dramatic whisper.

“What the hell is Daredevil doing on Trip Advisor?”

“Everything’s on the internet, Matt. You should be pissed off that that stupid overpriced ice cream place is beating him, not worrying about why he’s rated online.”

Matt scowled into his beer.

“Oh you _are_ pissed that you’re not number one,” Foggy deduced. “Ha! I knew it. Matt Murdock, summa cum laude, is pissed off that he’s not number one on the internet even though he doesn’t want to be there at all. Is that right?”

“Don’t be - that-that doesn’t even make sense.” Matt shook his head in frustration. He leaned forward and whispered, “people have been pretending to be in trouble just to get a glimpse of me, or sometimes a selfie.”

“Maybe you should start charging,”

“This isn’t a joke, Foggy,” Matt said. “People need my help and this-this craze is preventing me from doing my job.”

“Well if it helps, I’m glad you gave up the crime fighting and came out tonight.” Foggy looked back at his phone. “Thank you, CornDude82, for annoying Matt off the streets for the night.”

Matt rolled his eyes and chugged the rest of his beer.

* * *

 

Come Tuesday night, Matt decided to brave the streets again. Within five minutes of him emerging from his rooftop apartment, he heard a scream that was followed by “Help! Daredevil!”

Matt rolled his eyes. It was obviously fake. Not an ounce of fear in the call. But he followed the call anyway, bounding from building to building before crouching on an adjacent building top.

“Help!”

Matt tipped his head towards the man who was hanging from a rope suspended from a rusty old fire escape. The idiot’s hands were slipping slowly down the rope and Matt could hear the man’s heart rate increase at the loss of control.

“Shit, I can’t hold on,” the man hissed at a friend who was waiting on the fire escape, camera in hand. The friend snickered and the man gasped, “n-no, really, my hands are all sweaty. I’m slipping.”

“Swing back,” his friend suggested.

The man attempted to swing back to the landing, but he merely managed to slip a bit further down the rope, widening the distance between him and the steps.

“Shit, fuck,” the guy said under his breath. The old rope creaked and twisted under his weight.

Matt drew out his burner phone to call emergency services. There was no way he was about to encourage a stunt like that by swooping in to rescue him. But before the operator picked up, the man slid a full foot down the rope, letting out a yelp of fright. “Help,” the man cried, the fear very real this time.

Matt sighed and hung up the emergency call. With the help of his grappling hook, Matt swung across to the adjacent building, scooping up the man midway. Matt deposited the idiot onto the fire escape, strategically positioning him so that his rotund frame blocked the camera’s view of Matt’s escape.

“Shit,” the man gushed. “That-that was-“

“Move, Cam,” the friend hissed. “I missed him. Your giant ass was in the way.”

“Well you should have been the one risking your life then,” Cam replied. He called into the night, “thanks, Double D. You’re the best!”

 

“Okay, what’s with the face?” Foggy asked the next morning as Matt stormed through the front door of their office.

Matt growled, “people are starting to put themselves in real danger to get me to rescue them.”

“Like the guy with the rope last night?”

“How do you know about that?”

“The internet.”

Matt huffed and disappeared into his office without another word.

* * *

 

The next day, Foggy turned up with a cake. “You’ve climbed to number two. Congratulations,” Foggy said, placing the box on Matt’s desk. “I got you a coffee walnut cake from that fancy place you like just for the occasion.”

Matt mimed hitting his head against the desk. “I had another two fake rescues last night,” he grumbled 

“Maybe it’s time you hung up the horns.”

“No. I’m not going to give into these fools.”

“According to DevilFan79 on Instagram, you rescued someone at fake gunpoint.”

“It was a plastic gun - you can print those now. I assumed- I-I didn’t realise it was a toy,” Matt tried to explain.

“Sure… sure.”

Matt opened the box and took a whiff. “If I eat this cake, it doesn’t mean I’m buying into this competitive internet thing.”

“Of course not,” Foggy said with a grin.

“Okay, then I’m having cake for breakfast,” Matt said, grabbing the knife.

* * *

 

“Number one,” Foggy said, popping the cork on the champagne bottle. 

Matt rushed out of his office. “Foggy, what the hell-“ he hissed.

“What are we celebrating?” Karen asked, walking out of the conference room to join them.

“Just us being awesome,” Foggy said. He gave Matt a slap on the back. “And this guy being number one - number one awesome guy.”

Matt cringed at Foggy’s awful attempt to avoid saying exactly what the number one referred to.

Karen laughed. “Right,” she said, shaking her head. “Is this just an excuse to drink that terrible bottle of fizz that Mr Mauri gave us as a parting gift?”

“Hmm yeah, maybe.”

As Karen went to find three similarly sized glasses in the kitchenette, Foggy whispered at Matt, “you made it, buddy. Summa cum laude of the internet.” He handed Matt a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Your certificate from Trip Advisor. Number one, buddy, number one.”

“Put it away,” Matt hissed. “Karen will-”

“Karen will what?” Karen asked, placing three glasses on her desk.

“You will like the news that your friend in the mask is the new number one attraction in Hell’s Kitchen,” Foggy said to her, holding up the certificate.

Karen said, “nooo, really?” She snatched the certificate and studied it. “Where did you get this?”

“Yeah, how did you get a certificate for Daredevil,” Matt chimed in. He crossed his arms, suddenly emboldened.

“A combination of drag and drop images and a little bit of photoshopping,” Foggy finally confessed. He plucked the paper from Karen’s hands and returned it to Matt. “The certificate may be, um, imagined, but Daredevil is actually number one. I thought maybe I could leave it out for him somewhere and then maybe call his name, or scream for help... or something. Actually, I thought maybe you’d like to do it, Matt.”

Karen laughed at Matt’s stunned expression. “Whatever you do, don’t do what those idiots did last night,” she chuckled.

Foggy asked, “what idiots?”

“They got themselves stuck on the roof of a warehouse,” Karen said. “Apparently they were trying to get selfies with Daredevil and pretended to get stuck. They’d hidden a ladder just in case. But then Daredevil didn’t come and when they tried to get down off the roof, they found that someone had removed the ladder.”

Foggy looked at Matt who had a slight smirk on his face.

Karen continued, “they ended up calling emergency services to rescue them. But one of them had already started live Instagram story so the whole thing was publicised and they ended up looking like complete dickheads.”

Matt’s smirk grew even more pronounced.

“Fancy that,” Foggy said with a laugh. “I think that deserves a toast,” Foggy announced, holding up his glass. “To Daredevil and his wiley ways.”

“He wouldn’t,” Karen said in a mock scandalised voice. “Do you think it was him? Daredevil removed the ladder?”

Excusing himself from the heated debate over Daredevil’s capacity for mischief, Matt retreated into his office. He ran his fingers over Foggy’s photoshopped award certificate. He’d never admit it to anyone _ever_ , but he was secretly a little bit proud. 


End file.
